


Supernatural Drabbles

by Krasimer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drabbles, M/M, The last one of these was written in 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: Various drabbles I've written for Supernatural, collected in one neat format right here.





	1. Black Hearts

They needed this.

Right now, they both needed this. Whatever this was, Bobby and Crowley needed the solace they found within each other. They needed the warmth and hatred of the other because if they weren't fueled by something, they would be empty and neither of them could stand that. It was all they could do to hold on, and all they wanted to do was let go, but they had to sit there and take everything that was handed to them because there was no other kind of life and all they knew was fighting.

If they became empty, they would break.

This wasn't a love affair. There were no exchanges of vows, or long speeches comparing the other to a river or a lake or a flower. There was just heat and hatred. Broken gazes and angry eyes, on top of empty threats and spilled blood. This was a need, fulfilled and harsh, something that should never have seen the light of day.

Crowley often slips away before Bobby wakes up, sometimes leaving a mocking little paper heart. It's not red paper, that would be too much like hope and love for the King of Hell.

No.

He leaves a black paper heart, sometimes with burn marks around the edges.

This isn't a love affair.

Bobby is too stubborn, and Crowley doesn't know how to ask. This isn't, and will never be a love affair.

Love is too simple for them.


	2. Play It Again

Gabriel's been around for a while, so he knows when he has seen something that has been repeated. He's seen fashion trends come and go, he's seen skirts get longer, longer and longer, and then all of a sudden, thighs are bared. He knows that this year's revolutionary mind is similar to the one that existed a couple of hundred years ago.

But what really makes his breath catch, what really stops everything in his brain, is when there's an exact replay of a human soul.

When he sees a human get reborn, into a new life with the same soul, the slate wiped clean and shiny, he gets excited. There's something that holds his interest with it. Souls get taken and gently handled, away from everything that happens to them, and they get new bodies, new names, and new faces. Reincarnation is their word for it. In Enochian, it's a different word, but it has a feeling to it, the word almost tastes the same when he says it.

What really startles him though, is a pair of souls that he has seen through the ages.

They're devoted, familial, and warm.

The younger of the two, always ending up as the younger sibling no matter what life they're living, is what draws him in. The warmth and light projected from that one specific soul make him feel better than he has in a very long time. It makes him feel like he did when his father was still around and his brothers weren't assholes, and he could still care without getting hurt. The younger has lived so many lives, but still feels the same.

Gabriel feels loved in the moments that they share, the few that he is allowed without being deemed as too close to the human in question. The younger soul, in his mind where he has everything that he still does not tell anyone else, is his. He calls the soul his, and he's not even sure when it happened.

But he knew, from the moment that Sam and Dean walked in through the doors of the college, that it was them. He didn't even have to look up to know, it was just there all of a sudden, in his mind. Something was calling out to him, saying loudly "Here! They're here! Look underneath and you'll see it's them, just with new packaging!"

He'd nearly choked on his vessel's tongue when he'd realized that Sam was staring at him with something like unbridled want in his eyes. It was with a heavy heart that he knew he would have to push him away. Sam wanted, and he would not be allowed to reciprocate. Not with his brothers trying to find him and his entire family being insane. 

Castiel made him jealous, allowed to touch and talk to and help and hold his soul. Dean was his, in the same way that Sam was Gabriel's. Castiel got to interact without anyone raising an eyebrow, but Gabriel had to sit back and allow Ruby, Meg, Anna, Lillith, all of them, to go waltzing through the Winchester boys lives.

And he has to sit there and allow everything with Lucifer to happen the way it needs to. The thought makes him sick, pulling a part of his stomach in a nasty way that makes him feel like breaking down and curling into a ball.

He has to let Sam Winchester live out his life.


	3. He Was Never Mine To Lose

Dean Winchester bears the mark of the righteous man on his arm. When Castiel put it there, he'd been a much different person. He'd been proud of being the only angel to rescue a soul from the Pit, of being the one who had brought a good man back from an undeserved fate.

He knew that was probably why he was suffering now.

He'd seen Gabriel's envying looks, the way that he would look at Castiel and Dean, standing together, and then look with remorse at Sam, close to breaking down.

But he was suffering, because Dean would never look at him that way, would never see him as anything more than "The Angel". Dean liked women. Castiel, for all of his powers, was not a female of either Angelic or Homosapien origin. Dean liked females, and it was all Castiel could do to not break.

There is the matter of Anna, and Jo, and Cassie and all of the others that Dean has shared himself with, in a way that he has not shared with Castiel himself, not even at the beginning of their time together. Castiel is not allowed to touch as much as he wants, there has been no permission given to allow him to tell Dean that it would be alright, that it would be good. Castiel is not allowed, although he gets away with what he can, because of his unique position in a human life. Dean is not his to take, not his to love, to hold, to have union with.

Dean Winchester is not his.

And he has to let it happen the way it does, has to see him suffer at the hands of Castiel's brothers, has to let Sam get harmed and pulled off his feet with Lucifer. He has to stand back and let it happen. When Sam gets hurt, Dean feels it as well, they are and always have been brothers, in the way that Castiel and Gabriel are brothers, in the way that an angel has a family. Permanent and bonded as siblings, forever in an eternity.

But no. 

Dean Winchester is not his. 

He's allowed to touch him, more than Gabriel is allowed Sam, but it's still not enough.

It will never be enough.


	4. Those We Love and Those We Lose

Castiel was not really responding.

That was the constant message that he was getting from Meg. He was tired of calling, only to hear that the one living being who meant as much to him as Sam did wasn't really in his own head anymore. Dean didn't know how much longer he could take it.

First, he'd lost Sam. He'd gotten him back, then he'd lost Cas. Bobby had been next, and then he had gotten Cas back, only to lose him again.

He'd already lost so much, how much more could he lose? He thought that he had seen the worst things of his life, back when he was in Hell, but none of that compared to losing Cas twice. He had never slept soundly, not that he could remember, not since the Leviathans.

Right now, Sam had put him on a 'vacation' from hunting. What it really meant was that he'd been forced out the door, with the keys to the car, and sent to go see Cas in the small town where they had left him. 

So there he was. An unresponding Castiel in front of him, sitting in the boring white clothing that they had issued him when he'd been signed in. There was nothing even close to a living being behind the eyes that were staring blankly at the wall somewhere over Dean's right shoulder.

Staring at his angel, the one that he had never gotten the courage to tell that he maybe possibly, probably...

He broke.

He nearly took off his own nose with how fast and hard he swiped at the tears making their way down his face, but after a second, he just let them fall.

No one else could see them, so why not?

"Cas." he sobbed "Why aren't you here anymore? I need you back. I- We need you back. I think we're so close to just breaking down and not ever getting back up. Sam is having weird dreams again. I keep seeing your eyes every time I close mine." he was halfway to reaching for the flask when he remembered that Sam had taken it before sending him here.

"I miss you, Cas. I..."

He cast his eyes down to the floor, scrubbing at his left eye with the heel of his hand, then looked back up. 

"I love you." He leaned forward and kissed Castiel's forehead quickly, then pulled back and went to the door. "If I could fix this, I would." he whispered, looking back for a moment "But I don't know how." With that, he went out the door, pulling it quietly shut behind him.

Inside the room, Castiel twitched a hand. Inside his head, Lucifer turned to grin at him. "I bet it would kill him if he knew what you thought of that right now."

A pause, then Lucifer giggled. "I bet that if he knew you loved him back, then he would kill himself."

"After all, little brother, humans are weak."


	5. Fact Check Your Dreams

"Dude, Sam, what's up?"  
"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is why the hell am I currently being forced to stay here, in the one place that's going to...Why am I here of all places?"

"I needed to see something."

"See what?"

"I needed to see if something I dreamed was right. I'm sorry, but you needed a break anyways. If you were gonna continue like that, you were going to get one or both of us killed."

"So you decided that dumping me in the same town as m- Cas was a good thing?"

"Apparently. You're being a lot more emotional right now, and you seem to have calmed down a bit."

"..."

"Look, Dean, I know you're mad at me, but I really think that this is what you need."

"What are you doing right now, Sam? Where are you?"

"I'm...You remember when Gabriel kept looping that one Tuesday around and killing you? I'm at that little cafe."

"Why?"

"It was in my dream a couple of nights ago, and I needed to see if there was any possible bit of truth in my dream this time."

"So wait, you're having dreams again? Like suddenly 'hey, psychic again!' kind of dreams?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm here. oh, hold on."

"Sam?...Sam?"

"There was something left here for me."

"What?"

"A package, with Sam Winchester written on it."

"Find out what's in it, then get back to me."

~

"Hey Dean."

"Did you find out what was in the box?"

"Yeah. It was a stack of papers, and some little statues. Don't know what for yet, but I guess I'll find out."

"Bring them back here, alright? Don't try them on your own."

"I know. Oh."

"What?"

"They're from Gabriel. There's a note in the box, dated shortly after the time we were here last. I guess he left it with them."

"What's the note say?"

"It's telling me to be careful, and to watch my back. Something about a protection spell, but it kind of fades, like he stopped writing in the middle of the sentences. I think..."

"Sam?"

"I think that this may be a warning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> Several years ago, I posted a drabble about Sam dreaming he met up with Gabriel. In the cafe. This is a continuation of that drabble because I never thought I would post this one. I mean...I posted that one and never thought I would post the rest. But here we are. http://archiveofourown.org/works/1018806 is the rest of this particular story if you wanted to read it.


	6. This Is The Last Time You'll See Me

Sam,

This is the first letter I've written to you, and it may be the last I ever write to you, and I think that scares me.

I've been watching over you for some time now, making sure that you'd be alright. I really want you to be alright.

You're probably still pissed at me, especially since Dean is alright now but freaked out, but I want you to know I was trying my best to help you. I wanted you to be ready when the time came, I wanted you to be prepared to lose Dean. 

The statues are for your protection. They're powerful protection spells that you might need.

I'm not going to be able to be around forever. I know that. The sheets of paper are to call in the gods who owe me favors. Not just gods, there are some other beings in there too, but every last one of them has agreed to transfer the favor owed to you. Look carefully at the papers, they're for different purposes. Each of the beings specializes in something, and I think you're going to need that in the future.

I'm afraid that this is all I can do. I don't know when you're going to get this letter, and I don't know what's going to happen in the meantime, but promise me one thing, alright?

Stay safe.

Live out your life the way you were meant to, and stay alive.

What was it that the Colt has carved into it?

Non Timebo Mala?

Fear no evil, Winchester.

By the time you get this letter, I might be dead. There are some things going on that I need to take care of, but I think I'm not going to survive the next adventure where I run into you two. I need you to survive. Alright?

Just promise me that.

You're not allowed to die, not until I've told you something special.

And trust me, there are a couple of things that I need to tell you.

I didn't tell you yet, mostly because you probably would have ganked me yourself. I think that you need to know some things though, and I can't really express them in this letter. I don't know if you're going to be the one to get this, or if your brother is eventually the one who gets this because you're dead.

All I have to say is I think I…Well, you probably get it. Never really been one for the mushy stuff.

Gabriel.


	7. Every Life, We'll Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human AU, part 1.

"Sir!"

Dean Winchester, age twenty-nine, turned around, having been startled out of his thoughts.

He came face to face with a dark-haired man, bright blue eyes, and stubble on this side of attractive. He smiled, looking the man up and down, then nodded. "What's up?"

The other man tilted his head, then held out something in his hand. 

"I found this on the ground, it held an identity card. Your name is Dean Winchester, yes?"

Dean nodded, holding out his hand. "I hadn't even noticed that I'd dropped it. Thanks, Mister...?"

"Castiel James Novak."

Castiel handed him back his wallet, then nodded at him. All of this was done with the same expression on his face, confused and slightly exasperated. Dean grinned, then raised an eyebrow. "You found me in a crowd by looking at an I.D picture that I had taken in the winter?" he shrugged "I have a different hair color, my skin is darker..."

Castiel kept staring at him, the look on his face never changing. "Is there a problem with my finding and subsequent return of your wallet?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm good. I just thought it was cool."

Castiel looked vaguely confused, but he nodded and turned around to leave. 

"Hey, wait." Dean called "I feel like I should give you something in return for giving this back and not taking my cash."

"I was not looking for a reward. It was the right thing to do." 

Nodding, Dean shrugged again. "I get that, but..." he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, writing down something quickly. "This is gonna seem odd, but here's my number." He walked away before Castiel had a chance to decline, leaving the darker haired man standing awkwardly with a slip of paper in his hands.

Castiel tilted his head, folding the paper carefully and tucking it into his own wallet.

"Who was that, Lil' Bro?" his older brother, Gabriel, asked.

Castiel turned to look at him. "His name is Dean Winchester."

"Winchester? Like the rifle?"

Castiel looked at Gabriel, then made a vague shrugging motion. "I did not ask."

Gabriel snorted, rolling his eyes. "Geez, Cassy...Did he hand you his number? Cause that's kind of moving fast. Even for an incredible hottie like yourself."

"He did."

"Hmm. Let me make that call for you."

"I find nothing to argue with in your statement." Castiel turned as his other brothers walked up, dragging Anna with them.

Lucifer looked between the two youngest boys of their family. "What happened?"

Gabriel grinned, pulling out a hard candy and popping it into his mouth. "Cassy got asked out. Least I think so."


	8. I Remember This Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human AU, part 2.

Sam looked around the bar, trying to find Dean based on a sight check only. Really, when his brother decided to end his day drinking, it was going to be nearly impossible to find him. "C'mon Dean, I have the bar exam to study for," he muttered, shifting his weight between his feet, rubbing nervously at his elbow.

As if summoned by magic, he spotted his brother sitting at a booth in the back, talking to someone.

A man.

Not his usual type either. Brown hair, with warm colored eyes. Short, too. He frowned when he looked his brother's companion over, noticing several things that didn't quite fit Dean's type.

Shrugging, he headed over.

As he got to the table, he noticed that Dean was sober, an unusual feat for a night in a bar. 

"Dean, are you coming home tonight?"

The man sitting across the table from Dean looked at him briefly, then back at Dean. "Please tell me that he's related somehow. My baby brother does not go for polygamists."

Dean rolled his eyes. "This is my baby brother, Sam." he gestured towards the short man "Sam, this is Gabriel."

Gabriel turned towards him, a hand extended as he looked Sam up and down, smiling warmly. "Pleasure's all mine, Sammy."

"My name is not Sammy, it's Sam." he automatically replied.

Gabriel's smile turned into a grin. "Sam then. Nice to meet you." he looked at Dean. 

"Dean here just sort of hit on my little brother. I'm screening. So far, he passes." the pleasant look in Gabriel's eyes changed all of a sudden. "If he stops passing, he just needs to know that my family is influential and my oldest brother is good friends with the chief of police. The body would never be found."

He slid out of the booth, smiling at both Winchesters before turning to leave.

Sam jumped nearly out of his skin when he felt a hand grasp his ass firmly and squeeze. He squeaked breathlessly, turning to look at a winking Gabriel. 

Who then saluted and sauntered away.

Dean leaned out of his seat, an eyebrow raised. "Did he just grab-ass you?"

"I...Yeah." Sam blushed.

Dean blinked, then made a 'What-can-you-do' face, taking a gulp of his drink. "Alright then."


	9. Read Me Your Lines

He nearly fell to his knees when he felt it.

A new soul in Hell.

One that shouldn't be there, one that should be still alive and running around at the Winchesters sides. 

Crowley abandoned the deal he was overseeing, leaving the lesser crossroads demon to finish by herself. He had to see this with his own eyes. He had to see...

He arrived in Hell, a flash of power bursting from him as he lowered his pride enough to run. His suit was rumpled by the time that he got there, but all he knew was that Bobby Singer was in Hell. He was nearly gasping, trying to find the errant soul of the man he had come to want as much as anything else.

Just as quickly as he had felt the arrival, he felt him leave. He nearly sobbed in relief as he realized that Bobby wasn't in Hell anymore, that he wouldn't be forced to pick up an instrument and start tearing apart all of the remaining sparks of goodness in whoever wandered into his clutches.

In the privacy of his flat on the human plane of existence, he did the inevitable fall to his knees, fingers clutching at the fabric of his trousers. Bobby had been in Hell for a brief moment, had seen what was the fate of everyone who fell off of the path of the angels.

He made a small keening noise, his throat constricting at what it meant that Bobby had been in his domain.

No matter what happened, it meant that the man was dead.

Bobby Singer, one of the best men he knew, one of the best hunters even, was dead. Bobby, with his rough manner and tough exterior but the softer heart inside that he had been rarely allowed to see. For a moment, he debated going to Dean and telling him that he had been sleeping with his surrogate father and letting the eldest of the Winchesters end his existence. He debated finding an angel and letting them smite him, tearing apart all of the delicate workings of his vessel's brain. Make it useless and nothingness, make it so that it wouldn't hurt.

He fell to the floor, curling into a tight ball, tears refusing to fall.

Demon.

Demons can't cry, it's a weakness.

Demons can't grieve. It's a weakness and the other demons will exploit it.

Demons, especially the king of Hell, aren't allowed to be anything but smug and sure of their power. Anything other than that will lead to a coup, a jostling of beings and a loss of power.  
He felt his nails grow sharp and knifelike, digging into his arms through the suit he wore.

Demons can't ask nicely for what they want. They're allowed to want, but they're not allowed to want to love a human.

Demon.

_Demon._

_**DEMON.** _

It repeated in his head like someone was throwing rocks at him and smacking dead center of his forehead each time. Demons are what they are. They're not allowed to change. He had to let Bobby go because otherwise the lesser demons would overthrow him and take away what he had fought so long and hard to gain.

At that moment, however, he could not care less.

A hollow feeling settled in the lower part of his stomach.

Bobby was dead.

A tear trailed down his cheek. Only one, and it was nearly dried out by the time it got to his chin.


	10. Chapter 10

Crowley couldn't sleep at night.

Not unless he was warm enough, and for him, that meant cuddling up to Bobby in the heavily blanketed bed.

There was something Bobby could have gotten him killed with.

But at night, laying together and planning, or trying to sleep, or reading, Crowley would cuddle up to Bobby's side and leech heat from him. Demons were apparently cold blooded, and Bobby would sigh, remove a hand from his book, wrap it around the demons shoulders, then go back to what he was doing.

Crowley would make a sound almost like purring, wrap an arm around Bobby's waist, turn his face into his side, and fall asleep.

Bobby would find that he wanted a camera at moments like these, but he knew that Crowley would kill him, especially if the Winchester boys ever found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some happiness to balance out the sad from the previous chapter.


	11. Missing You (Again Again Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More continuation of the Gabriel-left-things-for-Sam story. I probably should have put these ones as their own separate thing.

When Sam checked into the hotel, he had just barely gotten there before Dean.

The brothers nodded at each other, then without a word headed into the building to bed down for the night.

With a heavy sigh, Sam set the box he had been given on his bed, looking once more through the papers. They were thick and old, some older than others, and all of them were hand written in dark blue ink.

He couldn't read them, but he knew now what they were.

Gabriel had left him protections, and he didn't know what to think of that.

"So...What exactly are these friggin things?" Dean asked, words betrayed by the tone of his voice. He wasn't trying to be brash or annoying older brother. He was genuinely curious about what the papers contained.

Sam picked up a statue about the size of his little finger, turning it over and over slowly, looking at the etched details. "The letter said that these were protections. The papers are apparently how to summon gods and other world creatures to help us. Something about having the favors they owed him transferred to me."

Dean gave him a look, then picked up one of the papers. "I think we need Bobby..." he murmured "Or possibly Cas. Some of these aren't in English. I don't think this one's even a human language."

Sam looked at it for a moment, then frowned. "That might be Enochian." he put down the statue carefully, then turned to the rest of the box. "Why would he give me this stuff? I was kind of under the impression that he hated us."

Dean laughed, then shook his head, "No, he hated me. You? He liked. He went out of his way to talk to YOU, Sammy." he rolled his eyes "Kind of strange..."

"Or maybe just the way that Castiel does things too. Hunts you down to talk to you. Prefers talking to you. Sometimes ignores me." he shrugged "Angels are allowed preferences, just like humans."

"Except they're not, Sam. Angels don't have free will." Dean gave him a look, then shook his head "Cas and Gabe do...In a way. They've probably been around us so friggin long that it looks like free will. It's probably not, but it looks like it."

Sam stared at him for a moment, processing the words. "Wait, so you're telling me that none of them are able to think for themselves?"

"No, not like that...It's complicated, and you'd have to ask Cas about it." Dean shifted through the papers, doing a quick count. "Dude, there's at least thirty of these favor sheets."


	12. Kisses In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some ambiguous kisses. Could be Crobby, could be Destiel, could technically be Sabriel...You decide!

And then they're kissing for the first time and it's heaven it's hell it's everything in between and all he knows is that if it stops he might as well have pulled the heart from his chest.

Because if it stops right then, he'll die, and all he can think of is how he needs this more than he needs his next breath.

The fierce pressure between them is full of longing and want and something that's finally being brought to the surface, having gained a layer of dust from being hidden so far.

He digs his fingers into the short dark hair presented to him and pulls the other male closer. Their hips align and suddenly everything is on fucking fire and all that can happen now is that they'll either keep kissing or they'll fall apart.

Or maybe the world will end. It's what they've been running from for so long that maybe it finally caught up to them when they reached for what they wanted.

With their names on each other's lips, their lips smack as they pull apart and they breathe heavily. It's not the end.

It's the beginning.


	13. Waking Up (Breathe Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU I was going to write but got discouraged on. There are a couple parts to it, but it goes here.

There's rain, it's cold, and all that can be seen is the muddy area around him.

He's not waking up yet, but he's breathing and that's a start.

Underneath the grime he's covered in, he has light brown hair, and his face is covered in scruff. There's a jacket on him, thick with mud and his hands are in the pockets. His eyes are closed, and he starts coughing.

Around his neck, something shiny is strung. It looks like a necklace, but not any necklace that a human could make.

If the dirt on his neck was not there, it could be seen that there was a red mark, faded in some places to a light pink. The angels are not the ones to have brought him back. His eyes twitch, then open, and he sits up.

With an equally muddy hand, he makes an effort to wipe off his face. He looks around, then pulls his legs in close to him.

He makes a squeaking sound, crawling over to a nearby tree and using it to stand, he starts making his way towards the road. A couple of cars pass during his slow journey, but then he is alone and everything is quiet.

The necklace appears to be a magic charm, flashing in and out of his shirt as he moves, almost like a ball in a shell game.

After what feels like hours, he finally makes it to the road. Another car finally appears and he waves frantically from where he is leaning against a tree. The car stops, the window rolls down, and there are two faces that he knows.

With a deep breath, he smiles. He can't use his voice yet, his neck had been hollowed out a few years ago, and he was just brought back. It will take some time, but he'll be able to talk again. The two men in the car staring at him for a few moments more, then one of them gets out and walks over to him.

His brain is a little slow, but eventually, it supplies the name 'Sam Winchester' and he nods at the man in front of him. Sam looks like someone just smacked him across the face, but he nods back.

"Andy?"

He nods again, then almost falls down the tree, his legs having decided not to stand anymore. Sam catches him, then picks him up.

By the time all of this has happened, the other man has left the car. His name is- "Dean!" 

Sam growled. That can't be good.

He feels a brief cut across his arm, then a burning sensation as Dean does something.

"He's not anything bad, as far as I can tell."

Sam looks at him, then at Dean. Sam's mouth opens, but he doesn't hear what he says. He's dropping into unconsciousness again.

Sam puts him in the backseat of the Impala and Dean drives on, towards Bobby's.


	14. Breathing Again (Know A Truth)

"So, what the friggin' HELL is ANDY doing in the backwoods area of Sioux Falls?"

Sam shrugged, looking at Dean. "I don't know. Apparently, someone brought him back. Just like you, I guess."

Dean gave him a look, then turned a brief glance to the unconscious man in his backseat. "So we're bringing him to Bobby's? Great, Bobby'll love that."

"What else are we supposed to do with him, Dean? He obviously just popped out of the ground, he's covered in mud, and as far as we know, his only family is dead. The only people who would be able to take him in are either aware he's dead, or us." Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. Dean glared at him for a moment, then shrugged. 

"Whatever." he muttered.

After a time of driving, they made it to Bobby's house and knocked on the door. The man opened the door, crotchety as ever, made even worse by the wheelchair he was stuck in. After a moment, he saw that Sam was carrying someone. 

"Who the hell is that?" 

Sam walked in, hefted the bundle of a person onto the cot in the corner, then turned to Bobby. "Remember the 'Special' kids? The ones like me? This is Andy Gallagher. He died back then."

"Did'ja check him?" Bobby asked, already going over the man's arms. 

Dean glared at him for a moment. "I did it myself, Bobby. I think I know how to check someone for a possession and all that other fun stuff."

"Then how come there are no marks on his arms? Idjit." He grumped, staring Dean down.

Frowning, Dean stomped over and pulled Andy's arm up, rolling back the sleeve. When that gave him nothing, he checked the other arm. "I did it myself, there's no friggin' way that-"

Bobby wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Instead, his hand was occupied by the thing around Andy's neck. "The Hell is this?" he asked quietly.

It was a necklace, the charm on it about the size of a silver dollar. The image it was carved into was a woman running through the forest, a deer following close behind.

"Sam, get me that book." Bobby pointed vaguely with his unoccupied hand, waving at his desk. "The big red one, with gold lettering on the front."

Sam grabbed the book, handing it over to Bobby. With that done, he looked at Andy. "He's still got the red mark around his neck from where it was broken. If he had been brought back the same way that Dean was, he would be perfectly healed, wouldn't he?"

"Yeah. I came back a virgin, too." Dean reminded him, "So why isn't he all healed and mojo'd back to a smooth-skinned state?"

A noise from Bobby drew their attention. "It's because he wasn't brought back the same way. Something else brought him back." He hefted the book onto the edge of the cot, pointing at a sketch on the pages. "The necklace he's wearing is the mark of a goddess. Normally it's used to show the property of the goddess Artemis, also known as Diana. But the image he's got is altered from her symbol." He pointed to the full moon in the background and the fact that the woman was carrying what appeared to be a soul.

"If it were Artemis, she would be carrying a bow and arrow, and that moon would be a crescent." Bobby continued. "She's carrying a soul, and there's a dress on her, rather than her bein' naked. Artemis is the goddess of the moon and of the hunt."

"So...You're saying that this mark is giving us a place to start, but not anything else much useful?" Sam asked him. He looked at Andy. "So what did he do to gain the favor of a goddess? From what I can tell, they're usually not too helpful."

Bobby shrugged. "Do I look like I know? The mark gives us a few clues, but for the most part not much because it's a different goddess."

"Great, so nothing at all came from that? That's great, Bobby." Dean snarled, only to be smacked by the man. 

"Boy, I can still kick your ass, even without the use of my legs." Bobby reminded him. "Don't think for a second that the search for the information is done yet."

There was a pause, then Bobby threw in, for good measure, "Idjit."


	15. Knowing An Odd Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of the Andy Comes Back set of drabbles.

When Andy woke up, Sam sat down next to him, a plate held out in an offering. 

"Do you have any idea how you got here?"

Andy shrugged, taking the plate. "I don't, actually. I remember dying. Creepy Ava killed me. And then I woke up, mind all fuzzy, and you guys were there and there's a car and now I'm here."

Sam frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Tapping his foot for a moment, he looked out the window.

"Sam, what's going on?"

He shrugged, then met Andy's eyes. "We don't know. We found you not too far from a hole in the ground, all covered in mud. We're assuming that you popped out of the hole, but we don't know for sure, and that's what's pissing us off."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Andy sighed. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to remember. "I..." he paused, then sat up straighter, eyes opening quickly like someone had just shocked him.   
"There was someone. A girl."

Nodding, Sam made a motion for him to continue.

He bit his bottom lip, frustrated. Trying to recall the memory was like trying to keep water in a colander. It would always leak out the holes. "I...I can see her, can tell that she was...somewhere around me, talking to me, but I don't remember. It's like there's a wall between the memory and me."

He rubbed at his side, wincing as his hand made contact with something there. "Did you guys have to bandage me up?"

Sam shook his head. "No. You were mostly healed by the time we got you here. Your throat still looked a little red, but considering how you died, that's explainable." he made a noise "Sort of."

Lifting his shirt, Andy looked down and tilted his head. In raised bumps on his skin, there were words, almost like a tattoo. He didn't recognize the language, but he could have sworn he had seen the style of writing before.

A creak of the floorboards announced the arrival of a grumpy looking older man in a wheelchair, and for a moment, Andy watched him carefully. When he didn't make any moves towards him, didn't do anything other than stare at the writing on his side, he let his focus drop back down to his skin.

"What in the hell is that?" The man demanded.

Sam made a face, looking between Andy and the other man. "This is Bobby, by the way."

"Can the niceties, Sam, we ain't got a clue what's happenin' here."

Andy looked at the man, Bobby, as Sam had called him and shrugged. "It hurts a little. Don't know what it is, but it wasn't there when I died. Doesn't feel like a tattoo either."

Bobby made a noise, something that was somewhere between a snort and a sigh. "Well, ain't that nice. Yeh ain't got a clue, we ain't got a clue, and not a one of us knows what the hell is goin' on here."

A thump on the floor indicated that Dean has returned, carrying a couple of paper bags in his arms that are full to the top with groceries. He walked into the room and stopped, focusing on the marks on Andy's side. 

"What the Hell?"

Unlike Bobby, who had no idea what they were, Dean seemed to recognize them and Andy caught his eye. 

"Do you know what they are?" 

Without another word, Dean set the bags down and pulled his jacket off. "I don't know what they say, if anything at all, but..."

He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, frowning. 

On his upper arm was a handprint that looked like it was made the same way the marks on his side were made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end of my drabbles for this. I don't know if I'm going to add any in the future, so...I guess this is it?
> 
> Hope you liked them. Tell me which was your favorite?


End file.
